course it’s relevant. If you have to kneel on the pitch to treat one of the players, it’s going to hurt you.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Men.’
‘Women,’ he sniped back.
‘Just shut up and lose the tracksuit bottoms.’
Oh, help. The pictures that put into his head. To clear them, he drawled, ‘Fabulous bedside manner, Dr Randall.’
Except that made it worse. Bed. Bailey. Two words he really shouldn’t have put together inside his head, because now he could imagine her lying against his pillows and giving him a come-hither smile …
She just gave him a dry look. He shut up and removed his tracksuit bottoms. He knew she wasn’t thinking of him in terms of a man right now, but in terms of a patient. What she saw wasn’t six foot two of man; she saw a sore knee. An old injury playing up that needed to be looked at and soothed.
Gently she examined his knee. ‘Tell me where it hurts, and don’t be stubborn about it—because I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me.’
‘Do you talk to all your patients like this?’ he asked.
‘Just the awkward ones.’
He guessed he deserved that. ‘OK. It hurts there. And there.’ He gave a sharp intake of breath. ‘And there.’
‘All righty.’ She grabbed a towel and spread it across her lap. ‘Leg. Here. Now.’
His bare leg astride her body.
Uh-oh. How on earth was he meant to stop his thoughts doing a happy dance?
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he drawled, hoping she didn’t have a clue what was going through his head right now.
Her hands had been gentle when she’d examined his knee. Now they were firm. There wasn’t anything remotely sexual about the way she touched him, and he had to grit his teeth on more than one occasion.
But when she’d finished the deep-tissue massage, he could move an awful lot more easily.
‘You’re very good at that,’ he said when she’d finished and he’d put his tracksuit bottoms back on. ‘Thank you.’
‘Better?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘Sorry for being snippy with you.’
She shrugged. ‘You were in pain. Of course you were going to be snippy. It’s forgotten.’
‘Thanks. I owe you one,’ he said lightly, expecting her to brush it aside.
To his surprise, she looked thoughtful. ‘I wonder.’
‘Wonder what?’
‘I do need a favour, actually, and you’d be perfect.’
He still wasn’t following this. ‘For what?’
She took a deep breath. ‘My best friend’s getting married in three weeks’ time. And I’m under a bit of pressure to take someone to the wedding with me. My family’s convinced that I need someone in my life, and I can’t get them to see that I’m perfectly happy just concentrating on my career.’
‘You want me to go to a wedding with you?’
‘Yes.’
‘As your partner?’
She grimaced. ‘I’m not asking you on a date, Jared. I’m asking you to do me a favour.’
‘To be your pretend boyfriend.’
‘For one day. And an evening,’ she added.
Go with her to a wedding.
She’d just made his knee feel a lot better. And this would be payback.
But … a wedding.
Where people promised to love, honour and cherish, until death did them part.
Vows he’d taken himself, and had meant every single word—although it turned out that Sasha hadn’t. For all he knew, Tom hadn’t even been her first affair. He’d been so clueless, thinking that his wife was happy, when all the time she’d been looking for something else.
Sasha had broken every single one of her vows.
She’d lied, she’d cheated—and then she’d made a crucial decision without talking it over with him. A decision that had cut Jared to the quick because he really couldn’t understand her reasoning and it was totally the opposite of what he’d wanted. Even if the baby hadn’t been his, it would still have been hers. They could’ve worked something out.
Except she hadn’t wanted to. The only person she’d thought about had been herself. Not him, not the baby, not the other man who also might’ve been the baby’s father—as she’d been sleeping with them both, she’d had no idea who the father of her baby was.
To go and celebrate someone else making those same vows when he’d lost his faith in marriage … that would be hard.
‘If it’s a problem …’ her voice was very cool ‘… then forget I asked.’
He didn’t want to tell Bailey about the mess of his divorce, Sasha’s betrayal and the termination. He didn’t want her to pity him. Besides, he owed her for helping him with his knee. ‘OK. I’ll do it.’
He knew it sounded grudging, and her raised eyebrow confirmed it. He sighed. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound quite so—well—Herod-ish.’
That netted him the glimmer of a smile. ‘Knee still hurting?’ she asked.
It would be an easy excuse. But he thought she deserved the truth. ‘Let’s just say I’ve seen a lot of divorces.’ He’d been through a messy one, too. Not that she needed to know that bit. ‘So I guess my view of weddings is a bit dark.’
‘This one,’ Bailey said, ‘is definitely going to work. My best friend used to be engaged to a total jerk, but thankfully she realised how miserable her life was going to be with him, and she called it off.’
Interesting. So Bailey was a realist rather than seeing things through rose-tinted glasses? ‘I take it you like the guy she’s marrying?’
She nodded. ‘Aaron’s a genuinely nice guy. And he loves Joni as much as she loves him. It’s equal.’
Did that mean Bailey had been in a relationship that hadn’t been equal, or was he reading too much into this?
‘Plus,’ she said, ‘I happen to know the food’s going to be good—and the music. Joni’s brother has a band, and they’re playing at the evening do.’ She paused. ‘Dinosaur rock. They’re seriously good. So I think you’ll enjoy that.’
‘You don’t need to sell it to me. I’ve already said I’ll go with you, and I keep my word.’
Funny how brown eyes could suddenly seem so piercing. And then she nodded. ‘Yes. You have integrity. It’s better to be grumpy with integrity than to be charming and unreliable.’
That definitely sounded personal. And it intrigued him. But if he asked her any more, then she’d be able to ask him things he’d rather not answer. ‘Let me know when and where the plus-one thing is, then,’ he said instead.
‘Thanks. I will.’
Bailey couldn’t stop thinking about Jared on the way home. The world of football was pretty high profile—as much as the worlds of music and Hollywood were—and the gossip magazines were forever reporting divorces and affairs among sporting stars. But something in Jared’s expression had made her think that it was a bit more personal than that. Was Jared divorced? Not that she’d pry and ask him. But it made her feel a bit as if she’d railroaded him into agreeing to be her partner at the wedding. And that wasn’t fair.
When she got home, she texted him: You